Preference
by KyaniteD
Summary: B'Elanna wants Seven, but Seven doesn't know what it means to "want". (mildly implied T7, f-slash).
1. Part 1

**Warnings**: None, except that there is nothing happening in here. Pretty  
Bor(g)ing. Not for action freaks. No shuttle crashes, no turbolifts in  
love, erh, no love in turbolifts. The mild rating is not for nothing.  
Well, I guess it is...

Uh, **unbetaed**. I didn't want to bother with a beta before knowing if  
it's worth it. So if anyone has suggestions regarding improvement of  
this little piece, let me know.

What else? Oh, remember that cheesecake is no proper computer food.  
Clogs up the spaces between the keys and starts smelling terribly  
after three days. Goes well with coffee, though. What a dilemma.

Everything StarTrek belongs to Paramount & Co.

**Fandom**: ST:VOY  
**Pairing**: Rather T,7 than T/7 (Greetings to all the darksiders out there. Oppose the lightside! T/7 rules!)

* * *

B'Elanna let out a frustrated growl. She hadn't expected it to be this  
hard. She knew she should have, but in her mind, everything had seemed  
a bit easier, a bit rosier, a bit more... romantic. Now, in bleak  
reality, Seven was standing by the door, directing her usual open,  
curious look at her, expectantly, hands clasped behind her back. She  
had imagined she would prepare dinner for the two of them. But  
everyone aboard was trying to force their own preferences on the young  
Borg, and so she had changed plans. She wanted to use some of her  
precious replicator rations and let her guest decide what they would  
eat. But Seven had just denied any preference. She didn't know it  
would be that hard to let the Borg have her way. If it was that hard  
with food she didn't dare to think any further.

Although her starting frustration did not seem to affect the blonde,  
she felt sorry for being on the edge of losing her temper already. She  
sighed. Entering a few commands on the replicator's display produced  
two servings of the nutritional supplement Seven once had developed  
for herself. B'Elanna handed one of them to her guest before she  
turned to sit down on her sofa. Seven was still standing by the door,  
looking at her dinner in her hand, then looking back at B'Elanna.

"Thank you. I was not aware that anyone else had knowledge of the  
composition of my nutritional supplements."

B'Elanna smiled.

"And I guess if you had suspected someone knew the secret, you'd never  
expected it to be me, huh?"

"This knowledge is irrelevant for you."

"Not anymore."

"Why?"

"Well, I wanted to know what you like, what you prefer."

"Why?"

B'Elanna shifted slightly.

"Uhm, I guess I wanted to know because -, because- I don't know,"  
she shrugged, "I was just curious."

Seven did not take her eyes off of her host, who downed half of her  
meal at once.

"Most who have sampled these consider them offensive. You are no  
different. Why did you choose to comsume something offensive?"

The half-Klingon looked at the brownish, gooey fluid in her glass.

"Figured what's good enough for you can't be that bad for me. I tried  
it a few times and found it's not as bad as I first thought." She  
looked up and her gaze met curious blue eyes. "It was just...  
different."

B'Elanna felt herself drowning in those blue orbs, framed by such  
beauty. It made her sad and she felt how it would be harder with each  
moment to drag her eyes away. Nervously fidgeting with the glass in  
her hands she motioned to sofa.

"Seven, please, sit down. Or do you want to leave already?"

The young blonde obeyed. But instead of following the directions of  
B'Elanna's hand she chose the armchair next to B'Elanna's place on the  
sofa. It was a cut to B'Elanna's heart but she knew it was a  
concession of some kind, considering all the hostility she had shown  
towards the ex-drone at first.

Seven still hadn't touched her food, B'Elanna noticed with a smile.

"Now it looks like you don't like it."

"I do not."

B'Elanna was surprised to hear that. Although she had the feeling she  
shouldn't be too surprised.

"You don't? I thought it's your favorite since you seem to prefer it  
over all the other dishes we, Neelix and the replicator have to offer."

"The preference is not expression of liking but of efficiency."

B'Elanna felt slapped. With everybody else she would be slightly  
annoyed by now, a few weeks ago she even would have been annoyed with  
the Borg. But now was different and she felt there was more to the  
issue than she first suspected.

"So, you don't like any food, and you don't like any drink. You don't  
care about sitting or standing -"

She thought of the times when Seven had been working in Engineering  
and all the tasks she had assigned to the ex-drone, sometimes in anger  
or frustration, sometimes out of curiosity and to test her limits.  
Every single time Seven of Nine had completed her tasks with the same  
perfect result, without any indication of a personal aversion or  
preference.

"- you don't care about the tasks that are given to you, the projects  
you are assigned to, whenever you spend time with the crew you do what  
they like and want to do."

Her voice had become louder while she spoke and she had started to  
gesture in front of her. She noticed the white knuckles on Seven's  
human hand, in which she also held her drink. B'Elanna knew she had to  
calm down. She didn't want to scare the young woman and willed herself  
to calm down and lower her voice.

"But, Seven, isn't there anything you like? Something you really want?"

"I am not sure what you mean, B'Elanna."

Seven sipped on her drink, and with some amusement B'Elanna noticed  
this all too human behavior. It did not distract her from making her  
point, though.

"A goal, Seven, or a preference, something you strive for? - Besides  
perfection. Something you would fight for to get it."

"I do not seek perfection. I do what is necessary to survive. I fight  
for my own survival and that of this crew."

"But Seven, this is no life. This is mere existence. Floating along."  
She paused and looked up at her guest. "Why did you come here tonight?"

"Because you asked me to."

"Is that all?"

"I had no other obligations."

The young Klingon couldn't help but snort.

"Why, thank you, you certainly know how to make a girl feel special."

"I apologize." Tentatively seeking B'Elanna's eyes she added: "I'm  
sorry, B'Elanna."

B'Elanna found herself drowning again and suddenly all klingon  
strength seemed to vanish and she felt very weak and vulnerable.

"Are you?"

When Seven didn't answer she broke the eye contact, and all of a  
sudden their drinks seemed to be very fascinating.

"But really Seven, why don't you want anything? There is no food you  
prefer, no drink, no game, no sport, no anything you favor, if asked.  
Why?"

"I - I do not know."

"Ah."

"I do not know how to want. I do not know how to decide, what  
indicates preference of one nutrient over another."

"Uhm. I'd say taste is the ultimate criterion. You must know if you  
like something or not? How you feel about something?"

"That is, I believe, what is sometimes referred to as catch-22."

"I guess you're right."

"How do I know what I like, if I do not know how I feel."

B'Elanna could almost sense how the Borg's aloofness dissolved, how  
the shields started to crumble. Suddenly she felt like an intruder,  
like she had no right to be here with the Borg, asking these  
questions, urging her to expose her own vulnerability. The way the  
blonde emptied her glass at once betrayed her insecurity.  
But B'Elanna wanted to know, she wanted to understand, she wanted to  
find a way. A way in. A way that would lead her beyond the cool  
superior exterior of an ex-drone. But right now she seemed to be  
stuck. With an open wound and no way to let the one next to her know  
how much she cared and that she would never hurt her, never use this  
knowledge against her.

"I don't know Seven, I never thought about that. I'm sorry."

"There is no reason for you to apologize, Lieutenant. No one else has  
ever thought about that. It is of no relevance for you. Maybe it is  
beyond human comprehension."

The Borg's words stung, especially that she had used B'Elanna's rank  
instead of her name. B'Elanna knew Seven was retreating, trying to  
regain the distance between them that offered safety but was also  
reason for her loneliness. In a symbolic gesture to keep her from  
slipping back into drone-mode B'Elanna reached for Sevens hand.

"It's relevant to me, Seven. It matters to me."

Their joined hands tensed: Seven's in an attempt to pull away,  
B'Elanna's fully determined to keep the physical contact.

"Why? Why now B'Elanna?"

They looked at their hands and then slowly raised their eyes. B'Elanna  
did not know what she looked like, what her eyes were telling, but she  
knew she felt what Seven's eyes showed. She felt insecure and  
vulnerable and curious like a child. Suddenly she felt something like  
purity and innocence mixing with her warrior blood. There was a  
sensation of ease and warmth around her heart.

"I don't know Seven. Tell me why you are here tonight. Don't tell me  
again it's because I asked you. I'm certainly not the Captain's or the  
Doctor's first choice for socialization experiments, so if your  
decisions are always based on efficiency and not preference, then why  
are you here instead of doing something more efficient? Why did you  
choose me over all the other things you could have done tonight?"


	2. Part 2

**Note**: Darksiders, by nature, are immune to flames, so fire away!

* * *

"I had not considered any alternative activities after your request  
for my presence tonight."

This was not the answer B'Elanna had hoped to hear. She did not really  
know what she had hoped for, but she knew this wasn't it. The softness  
in Seven's eyes seemed to have vanished and suddenly she did not know  
if what she had seen had been only wishful thinking. She looked away,  
but despite her sudden urge to be left alone she refused to let go of  
Seven's hand.

"And what were your plans before I asked you?"

B'Elanna felt the cold eyes still looking at her, when she heard the  
answer she should have been expecting all along.

"When I am not asked to participate in social activities with the crew  
I am working on improving the efficiency of technology in my direct  
environment, which consists of the astrometry laboratory and cargo bay  
two. This evening would have been no different."

B'Elanna pulled her hand away from the ex-drone's, and for a moment  
she thought she felt some hesitation from the drone to let go. She  
retreated inwardly. On the outside, she put her hand in her lap and  
tried to focus on the cold reality in front of her.

"So, you felt compelled to accept my invitation?"

"No, I did not. The captain has made clear that all requests outside  
regular work shifts that are not due to emergencies are not orders and  
thus can be denied without providing reasons."

"I-I still don't understand Seven, you could have said no, why didn't  
you?"

B'Elanna felt very small. And defenseless. And vulnerable. She had  
debated with herself for some time, whether it would be a good idea to  
invite Seven, to make a big step into the unknown and bring the one  
she once had considered her enemy into her personal space like that.  
Her mind had tried to argue that it was a mistake, but something else,  
much lower, much deeper, had nagged her to dare and try to get closer  
to Seven, to try and find out what possibly fascinating personality  
might be hidden behind the beautiful but stony exterior.

"Although I am not required to provide reasoning, my decisions are  
based on logic reason and at that time there was no reason to deny  
your request."

"I see." The young half-Klingon didn't know what to look at, what to  
do. Suddenly everything felt awkward and, herself included, out of  
place. Maybe even plain wrong.

"I use my time to expand my knowledge on many levels. My past as a  
Borg drone has left me with extensive technological knowledge.  
Spending time with further research of technologies would increase the  
imbalance regarding other areas... of life. Your invitation was a  
rare opportunity to gather more knowledge in some of those areas."

B'Elanna's shoulders sagged. She was defeated, by Seven, again. She  
felt like a fool.  
She articulated her defeat with a deep sigh.

"And why is this opportunity so rare, Seven? It seems like lately  
you're often invited by crewmembers to spend your free time with them.  
One should think you can gather a lot of social knowledge then."

"They are predictable."

B'Elanna startled and her head shot up and her eyes were once again  
caught in blue steel.

"What?"

Seven tilted her head ever so slighty.

"They are predictable. When I have spent some time with them there is  
nothing new to learn. Or the knowledge is of no relevance to me. I do  
not know anything about B'Elanna Torres, except her skills as  
Engineer. She seems an unpredictable, complex and contradicting  
personality. To have the opportunity to learn more about her is rare."

It felt odd for B'Elanna that Seven would speak of her in the third  
person while she was present. But maybe that was her way to keep the  
distance she felt she needed. That thought made her sad, but she had  
no idea what she could do about it. Despite everything she felt  
special again, and there was a glimpse of hope that maybe nothing was  
lost after all.

"And Seven, why is it important to know me? Why would you want to  
predict me?" The thought the ex-Borg wanted to predict her made her a  
bit uneasy, but she was confident that there was more to Seven's  
motivation.

"Interactions with you are required on a regular basis and would be  
less complicated if I had more knowledge about you. Furthermore, you  
are the only one aboard Voyager whose technological skills can match  
my own. While we are forced to cooperate during regular  
shifts, your assistance would be beneficial for my other research  
projects as well."

Initially, B'Elanna was about to get angry. Seven wanted to get to  
know her better only to get her to work more, in her spare time no  
less. Not only did she not care about her but she also wanted to take  
advantage of her!  
But then, stopping herself and taking a different approach, she saw  
that in some way Seven had just told her she wanted to get to know her  
better and spend more time with her. She wanted to share her hobby  
with B'Elanna. Even if that looked like work, in some way it was  
Seven's hobby.

A bit remorseful she answered with a low whisper.

"You could have just asked me for help, you know."

"Your past behavior gave no indication that such an approach would  
have been successful."

B'Elanna knew Seven was right, but the feeling of constant scrutiny  
just drove her mad and she sprang up.

"Goddamnit, Seven, do you always, always have to think and analyze so  
much?"

Seven clearly had not expected the sudden change in B'Elanna's mood  
and winced at the sudden outburst. But she stayed calm. She didn't  
know any other way.

"It's all I have to rely on when I have to decide."

Immediately B'Elanna felt sorry, and the sudden changes in her mood  
seemed to get to her. She didn't know anymore what to do, think or  
feel. She just didn't trust herself anymore.

Rubbing her forehead she tried to decide on her next step.

Seven was looking at her expectantly, and just to torture herself a  
bit more, B'Elanna convinced herself that there was also something  
like fear in those blue eyes. Even if the ex-drone denied any  
emotions.

"Seven, look, I'm sorry, this is so not going the way I had imagined."

She knew how dangerous it was to have expectations, to want something  
badly enough to be dreaming it true, to imagine it and see it before  
the inner eye before it actually happens, regardless that it might  
never happen at all in reality.

"What did you imagine, B'Elanna?"

There it was. The question she had been dreading as soon as she had  
admitted to have expectations. She cursed herself, for saying it out  
loud, but now she had to answer, and Seven was looking at her with  
innocent curiosity. How was she supposed to tell her she was  
attracted to her if Seven did not even understand what it meant to  
like or want? Things turned out to be far more complicated than she  
had ever expected. She wanted to slap herself for being so  
inconsiderate, for claiming to care about someone romantically she  
hadn't even cared to get to know better as a friend.

"I-, Seven, I- I think we better end this evening. I think you should  
go."

There was no emotion discernable on the ex-Borgs face, when she got  
up.

"B'Elanna, was my question inappropriate?"

"Uh, no, Seven, no, not at all. This is not your fault. Please don't  
think you did anything wrong. I just- cannot answer your question and  
I think I need to be alone right now. I might end up hurting you if we  
continue this." Upon the questioning look on Seven's face when she  
referred to emotions that, according to Seven, did not exist, she  
added, "Well, maybe I'm more afraid of making a fool of myself."

B'Elanna was convinced she could see puzzlement in Seven's face.

"As you wish B'Elanna. I will leave. However, I apologize if  
my actions have caused this... turn of events. I will see you  
tomorrow. Good night."

With that she turned to leave the quarters and B'Elanna barely managed  
to answer, "Yeah, see you tomorrow, Seven," before the door closed  
behind her guest.

She slumped on her sofa, taking a deep breath, then leant back and  
slowly released the air from her lungs. Everything was so complicated.  
Here she was now, at the end of what she had hoped to be a first date  
with Seven. And all it had been was a meeting with an, admittedly,  
interesting conversation, essentially resulting in the realization  
that she had a crush on a beautiful, living, sensing, but not  
sentient, being. She briefly wondered, what her  
shrink at the academy would think, but decided she didn't really want  
to know.


End file.
